


The Beserker Rage

by TheInfamousFingersmith



Category: Chris Hemsworth - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Gospel of Loki - Joanne Harris, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3249671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInfamousFingersmith/pseuds/TheInfamousFingersmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a slight mash up of themes from Marvel and Joanne Harris' Asgardian universes.</p>
<p>Short one shot of Loki attempting to corrupt Thor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beserker Rage

Loki slipped into the room where his brother slept, the walls rumbling with snores worthy of his epithet, god of thunder. The mead and women has worked their own brand of magic and sleep lay upon Thor thick and heavy as a woollen blanket.  
Ever the quiet one, Loki crept up to the bed with silent steps to observe the sleeper, and smiled. His trust was so easily won. And so wantonly easy to betray. Loki set to work.

His nimble fingers began to cast the runes with a speed that rivalled even that of the Vanir. Firstly Naud, to bind the sleeping mind and restrain his will and reason. Then Isa to freeze his heart, and block all warming affection that it held. Once these two runes held fast the real work began. 

The rune Hagalaz, a dangerous and treacherous rune it contains the power of sudden change, and yet only catastrophe and disaster follow in its wake. A bad storm is brewing when Hagalaz is brought into play.

And yet Loki dared to play with thunder. He pressed the rune between Thor's eyes, pushing it deep into his forehead where it etched itself into the god's prostrate mind. There it began to take hold, turning the wheels of his psyche, overthrowing good will, temperance and conscience, forcing them down into the furtherest recesses of Thor's mind, allowing unbridled fury, and raw blood lust to bubble to the forefront.   
Bound as his soul and conscious mind was, Thor began screaming, and his body convulsed as darkness blossomed within him. His strength was greater than Loki had anticipated, both physically and mentally, but he was too close to loose now. He scrambled atop the spasming figure and pinned his arms flat to the bed with his knees as he kept a firm hold upon the runes as the threatened to break. Gripping his brothers head tightly as he continued to thrash beneth him, he whispered soothingly through gritted teeth,

“Hush hush, brother, sleep now...”  
He contined to hold fast, long fingers cutting into Thor's cheeks as the rune continued to burn through Thor's mind. 

Just as Loki began to feel his own strength falter against that of his brothers, the thunder god's body grew still. Loki hesitated for a moment before tentatively releasing his grip, glancing at his bloody nails while Thor remained unmoved. Gingerly climbing off the bed, Loki's eyes remained fixed upon the silent figure and prickling waves of apprehension washed over his skin. Had it worked? Excitement pumping through his veins, Loki readied to himself to fight or (more likely) flight from his brother should he have failed. But still Thor did not stir.

Loki touched Thor's face for signs of life, but so still did he lay that he could barely register the rise of fall of Thor's chest in breathing. Growing impatient for a reaction, Loki searched for something to kick start the new life within Thor, and his eyes fell upon the great axe, Jarnbjorn that lay at the foot of the bed, never far from Thor's side. Hefting the its great weight with both hands, he laid the weapon upon Thor's chest. 

Static crackled over Thor's skin as the cold blade touched his naked flesh, and the blood lust that now possessed Thor became sentient. Blind rage knew steel, it understood the weapon, and knew what to do with it. Thor's large hands gripped Jarnbjorn's handle as he rose from the bed with a snap. Loki was quick to clear a path as Thor smashed his way outside, taking doors off their hinges with a single kick, and tearing through stone walls as if they were built from childrens' toy bricks.   
It didn't take long for the screaming to start. And it didn't take it long to stop either. 

****  
Loki picked his way over the bodies that littered the floor, tiptoeing his way between severed limbs and loose entrails.   
Thor was still again, the only standing figure, a silhouette of red, painted dark in the blood of the masses he had slaughtered. He held Jarnbjorn in a single hand by his side, dripping blood onto already crimson floor. He did not look at Loki, he did not look anywhere. The only thing that seperated him from the stone statues within the great hall was his breath, heavy with exertion. His true sight was now locked in the Realm of Dream, along with his conscience mind, and so his eyes were now glazed blind, unseeing to anything but violence and battle.

Loki stood before the bloody figure and smiled.

“My, my, my. What have we here?” he cast a critical eye and regarded them in same manner as a mother would her child's dirty room.   
“oh dear Thor. What have you done?”  
He kicked aside a stray arm with the toe of his boot, and tutted.  
“Such a mess. I mean really, brother, did you have to kill all the women as well? Who's going to clean this all up?”

Thor was inanimate as a mountain.

“Didn't you hear me?” Loki squared up to him. “I said they're all dead'. Every last man, woman. And child.” he paused for a reaction. When he didnt receive one, he drew closer.  
“Murderer” he bated.  
“Butcher” he whispered close enough to taste the blood on Thor's breath.  
But his chides were met with continued stoney silence. 

Loki threw back his head and laughed, clapping his hands with joy. Oh this was too good. Too perfect. The Mighty Thor without a thread of guilt, remorse or even the vaguest capacity of intelligence to question. Loki had made him into a machine. No, a weapon. The most dangerous weapon ever known to the nine realms.  
He tested him further, tentatively prodding Thor's arm, his chest.   
Nothing.   
He kicked at Thor's foot, his shins. Still nothing. Loki grinned. He grew brave. 

Drawing back his hand, Loki threw it across Thor's blank face, striking him with a loud 'crack!' as it hit hard enough to fell a normal man or lesser god. His palm stung fiercely from the impact, and he hissed, nursing it with his good hand. But Thor hadn't even flinched. A patch of pale skin revealed in the shape of Loki's hand print where the slap had wiped the drying blood from his cheek the only evidence of the strike. 

Loki clutched his sides and bent double, his shrieking gleeful laughter echoing about the empty hall.  
He had done it. He now had control over the berserker rage, and Thor.


End file.
